Decembers
by let.me.cry
Summary: You don't have to speak because I can hear your heartbeat. Fluttering like butterflies searching for a drink. You don't have to cover up how you feel when you're in love. I always know I'm not enough to even make you think. Oneshot. [NarutoSasuke]


ACK. DED. ANGST. EMO. KILLSSELF. ACK.

Let me just inform you all of this now: I **hate** the idea of Sasuke and Naruto having a relationship. Period. Hate it. However, NaruSasu is more bearable than SasuNaru, I'll give you that, SasUKE is excellent. So the **only** reason I'm writing this is because over at my fic Our Own Little Musings I held a little contest. Whoever left the 300th review got a oneshot with the pairing of their choosing.

So **DemonoftheSand** this is for you, because you requested NaruSasu! So here you go, thanks for reviewing OOLM and being so supportive :D

The song 'Decembers' by Hawthorne Heights inspired every damn word of this Fanfic, just so you know.

**Decembers**

Naruto remembered the last time it had snowed in Konohagakure. Distantly he could smell the air, usually sickly with pollution, but at that time the scent of ice and something burning had been present. He could feel the air biting at his face angrily, as though trying to force him back inside where he was in no danger of catching his death. Distantly, he could remember denying the worlds desire for him to just go away.

There had been someone there. Waiting for him. Just the way he had been when they first met. Naruto had been so lonely then. So had he. But in a way, when Naruto's blue eyes fell into that depressed inky black, he knew that he had been waiting for him. Waiting for him to grit his teeth and say hello. Waiting for him to acknowledge. In the snow, standing, half slouched, and mist escaping from between his covered lips, was he, he who was waiting just for Naruto.

That day he did grit his teeth. He said hello. He acknowledged the other boy. And in a flash he was running back home to his small apartment, where he found the lights had blinked out. He walked inside, into the darkness that seemed to swallow him like a devil, just itching to drag him into the undeserved abode. But Naruto didn't mind. The other boy had acknowleged him as well.

And that night he received his first visitor. As he sat in the darkness, staring hazily at his feet, his eyes well adjusted to the darkness by that point, a noise cracked through the still air like glass. The sound of flesh beating against wood, softly, apprehensively, as though considering whether to turn around and run away back to where he truly belonged. Back before anyone even knew he had been missing. Slowly at first, Naruto climbed up off of his couch, which seemed to want to haul him back after hours of steadily sinking into the fabric. As he reached the door and groped for the knob, he unsteadily turned it, and the door opened. His heart skipped a beat when he saw who it was, waiting for him, shivering slightly, but nonetheless, waiting to see him.

Which brought him back to the last time he remembered it snowing. It was much like that night. Apprehensiveness radiated from the figure, and he seemed to be battling whether to turn around and run back to what he could barely call his home. Naruto had smiled weakly, and the other boy's mouth twitched, as though attempting to spit something out, but having a hard time. Naruto didn't care. He could hear his heart beating irregularly from the cold, and that itself was relaxing all in its own.

The black scarf the boy was wearing fluttered for a moment and flew off revealing his face to a better extent. It was bright red but his black eyes were hazy and depressed, as they always seemed to be. His legs were shaking a little bit and Naruto could almost hear the other one's heart fluttering in a way no butterfly ever could. He was so _gorgeous_ but Naruto could never have realized it at the time.

Naruto smiled and advanced forward a few steps, ice biting him, and tracks imprinting deeply in the snow, as if a testimony to his existence. The other one flinched and looked away, as though trying to hide himself best he could while he was completely exposed for the world to scorn or admire. Naruto couldn't help but discard the beauty of the situation. He couldn't help but ignore the beauty of who stood before him. It was just what he was like to ignore such a thing.

After all, Naruto thought he was nothing in the other's eyes. He didn't think the other spent any time thinking about him. Any time considering him. Any time caring. But he was wrong. He was so very wrong. Because Uzumaki Naruto was foolish like that.

That was the last time he remembered it snowing in Konoha. He remembered the smell of purity. He remembered taking something so beautiful, so erotic, and so broken for granted. He remembered it all. And when did he remember this? On a stormy, hail stricken evening, where the lights in his home were dim and the smell of pollution was great. When the smell of purity was the last thing present. When he was suddenly reminded that his beauty had been too quick for him. Too fast for his grip. And he had melted in his hot hands and gotten away, just like the snow did.

It was a failed mission. As always he managed to screw it up somewhere. As always his ignorance had corrupted the situation. And every time he failed he tried harder. He moved faster than the world around him, desperate to catch up with his beauty, and finding that his beauty was always faster than he was.

And in a sad way, Naruto knew that somewhere along the line, he had grown fond of chasing him. He had grown addicted to the high of being so close and the agony of knowing he had failed everyone once again. It was as though he was in love with his own misery, because that same misery made it easier to remember. It made the wonderful memories more clear in his mind. So, unconsciously, he had begun to make his failures last.

Once, he had even found him. They were in Mist country, not on a retrieval mission whatsoever, in the middle of a soft December. Snow fell upon the ground and it seemed like a beautiful, depressing dance just for him to be captivated by. At one point he had wandered away. It was his heightened senses that had drawn him, the stench of blood was great, and it summoned him like a moth to a light. Slowly, as he walked droplets of red began to taint the white. And the farther he walked the more blood appeared until he found himself in an empty clearing. Lying in a small puddle of crimson that had refused to sink into the ground, was his beauty. Beside him lay a mist ninja, very dead, and the stench of the corpse making Naruto's eyes water. He didn't try and take him, he simply rolled him onto his back so he didn't drown, and kissed the tears off his unconscious body. He understood what it felt like to be lonely.

When he returned to camp, a bit of blood was on his clothes. No one mentioned it and he was glad. It was his beauty's blood. No one could take it from him now. It was all he had anymore. He was by himself more than anyone could possibly understand anymore.

It wasn't as though he didn't want him back. That wasn't the reason Naruto drew things out. It was masochistic, leaving him in a dead-like state, almost as though he was putting himself in an agonizing coma. It was self-inflicted, but Naruto never saw it this way. He saw it as his affection. He saw it as the way he worked. The way he existed.

Every day dragged on like a race he could never win. It was as though his goal, his finish line, and everything he had worked so hard for was running away from him, just to make it more difficult for him. Part of him liked it. Part of him despised it. Reality was the only marathon he couldn't seem to finish.

And this constant race was ripping him to pieces, for it seemed he was running it with bare feet, just begging for the obstacles of existence to rip him apart until his blood was upon everything, and all the lands were tasting the sweetness of a demon's weakness. The fruit of his distant humanity.

No one ever could make Naruto feel better. Sometimes, when he failed, they told him he was awful and useless, and that he could never do anything right. It hurt. Other times, he was inflicted with a treatment far more sadistic. They would smile weakly at him and tell him it was okay. They would say they were proud of what he had accomplished, and invite him out for a drink. The stress killed him very, very slowly.

When Naruto felt like this he liked to go home and turn out all the lights. He liked to remember that time when his beauty's knock shattered through his sadness, breaking it like a ball through a window, but only making him happy instead of agitated. He liked to remember the many times he had brought his beauty home and made love to him, pulsing within him, feeling himself penetrate the other, while the darkness blocked away everything else. He pictured his beauty in his mind, sometimes vividly, sometimes distantly. It was his pathetic attempt at escape.

Which once again returned him to his present state. Naruto smiled sadly into his hands. Sometimes he wished everyone else was lonely too. Sometimes he wished everyone else could understand his pain, just the way his beauty had. But no one could. No one was enough. Was it a sadistic thing, to desire pain so passionately for others? Perhaps it was. But Naruto refused to see it that way. In his mind, it was only his adoration and desire that led him to think and feel these things. In his mind, he only desired other's pain to make up for the fact that no one was there to understand his own.

Mingled in with sounds of his own, choked misery, he could heart a rhythmic pounding that was blatantly obvious in his memories. It was the sound of a shy, apprehensive life form, which couldn't seem to find the words he desired to communicate, but honestly didn't need to. Naruto bolted up for a second, and his blue eyes darted in every direction, suddenly angry at the darkness that was keeping him from what he desired.

There came a sound. Soft at first, but building up into something almost tangible. The sound of flesh beating against wood filled his ears, not in fright, but almost as if silently begging him to open it. The drumming of fear and regret was beating in a louder tone than before and he bolted from the couch. The fluttering of concealed emotions were more evident as he approached the door, and for the first time in his life, he truly hesitated, arm outstretched to the brass doorknob.

Before he could open it, it turned on its own, creaking unhappily, and the wood began to recede to the other side. The first thing he saw was a black scarf. His eyes traveled the figure, but it was too well hidden in thick clothing, and the hair was too far soaked from rain to be distinguishing.

"Naruto! Why the hell is it so dark in here?"

Thank god for that dark. If it wasn't for it, Sakura would have seen her friend's entire composure break from ecstasy to anguish. It was because of that darkness that he could hide the fact that he had been hoping, _praying_, it had been someone else. And, as usual, he was wrong. Because he was just a screw up. The dark covered up the fact that he was in love. The dark covered up his fears, his pains, and his emotions.

So when he flipped the light on, he put on a fake smile, all signs of horror gone, and invited the pink haired kunoichi into his house, coming up with a quick excuse that his energy bill was up and he needed to keep the lights off when he didn't need them. She accepted it quickly, and went on to chat about something he wasn't listening to. Sakura didn't realize it at the time, but sadly, the boy she was sitting beside and drinking with was more alone than she could ever possibly comprehend.

"Sakura?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry."

_I love you Sasuke._

**End**

And that's over! Well, since I don't like the pairing, I'm unsurprised it came out a ball of angst. Anyways, here's to you **DemonoftheSand**, it's your gift, for being so nice to me! To everyone: Please review!


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